The decrepit ship carrying Grimm and his fellow wizard apprentices stood out starkly at the port—its ramshackle state made it impossible to miss. It was no surprise; having endured a battle between a wizard and a nightmarish giant octopus, the ship's survival alone was a stroke of luck.
As the ship docked, the apprentices couldn't contain their eagerness. They surged onto land, inhaling the fresh air deeply, their faces alight with joy.
At last, they had escaped the hellish voyage!
Their exuberance, however, caught the derisive eyes of other passing wizard apprentices at the port.
"Another batch of ignorant island bumpkins," one sneered. "They think arriving on the wizard continent makes them wizards already. Utterly laughable."
The apprentice had mistaken the Bloodsail Alliance apprentices' relief for excitement about setting foot on the wizard continent.
"My Lord," they all greeted the Faceless Mask Wizard with respectful bows. But the Faceless Mask paid them no mind, only turning to the group disembarking from the battered ship.
"Stay where you're told," he commanded curtly.
Just then, a figure approached from the distant sky. In moments, an old crone riding a broomstick descended before the group. Ignoring Grimm and the others entirely, she fixed her gaze on two specific apprentices behind the Faceless Mask Wizard—Dawnlight and Bibblyanna.
"Hehe, these two adorable ones must be the targets identified by Lilith's Cottage," the crone cackled. Her wizened face was so gnarled it resembled ancient tree bark, and her laughter exposed a set of decayed, blackened teeth, repulsive to behold.
Instinctively, many of the Bloodsail apprentices distanced themselves from the unsettling woman.
Grimm couldn't help but wonder: Are all wizards so grotesque and bizarre? If I become a wizard, will I end up like this too?
The mere thought sent a chill down his spine. He stole a glance at the tall, elegant Raffi standing nearby. A wicked notion crossed his mind—what if she, too, became as hideous as this crone?
"Am I beautiful?" Raffi suddenly asked, turning to face Grimm with an expressionless gaze, as if making a cold joke.
For a fleeting moment, Grimm's mind overlapped the old crone's visage with Raffi's, startling him. Panicking, he blurted, "Y-Yes, beautiful!"
Raffi regarded him with mild surprise. This was unlike the old Grimm, who would've turned away coldly at such a question. Perhaps the oppressive tension of the sea voyage had eased their spirits now that they were ashore. Even Raffi herself hadn't expected to ask such a thing.
After a moment of astonishment, Raffi smirked. "Should I take that as a confession, then? Hmm, considering you once risked your life to save me, I'll give it some thought." She turned away, leaving Grimm frozen in place.
Inside, Grimm seethed: Confession, my foot! Go find your dear Aeron instead!
He hadn't forgotten how, back at the Bisserl Castle Viscount's estate, Raffi had tossed him a copy of Nasal Hunting Modifications and the Scent Codex while calling out Aeron's name.
Meanwhile, the Faceless Mask Wizard, perched atop a murder of crows, spoke again.
"Enough. Don't frighten these young ones. After over a month's ordeal, I'd wager they're already terrified of the academy."
The crone cackled wickedly. "What they think doesn't concern me. They won't enter the Sacred Tower anyway. My only targets are these two." She motioned for Dawnlight and Bibblyanna to step forward, then added coldly to the Faceless Mask, "If I'd taken this mission, it wouldn't have taken a month."
With that, she departed with her two chosen apprentices, leaving only a faint trace of malice behind.
"Hmph! Not a month? What, would she have flown the ship here?" Yorkris muttered indignantly. His sister, Yorkriana, tugged at his sleeve, signaling him to quiet down, wary of causing trouble.
"Idiot," Raffi interjected coolly. "She meant she'd have abandoned or killed the rest of us outright."
Raffi's words sent a chill through Yorkris, Yorkriana, and Grimm alike. They silently thanked their stars that this mission hadn't fallen to the crone.
Some even began to feel a grudging fondness for the relatively mild-mannered Wizard Dila. If they could safely reach Lilith's Cottage Academy, perhaps their fortunes would finally change.
Roughly a quarter-hour later, seven or eight panting wizard apprentices arrived from afar. Spying the Faceless Mask Wizard, they barely paused to catch their breath before bowing respectfully.
The Faceless Mask waved them off impatiently.
"There's half a month until term begins. No need for further arrangements—assign them quarters directly. You handle it."
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison. Once the Faceless Mask departed with Solrum in tow, his crows cawing ominously, an unsettling atmosphere lingered in the air.
When the wizards were gone, the newly arrived apprentices exhaled in relief, then turned to appraise the weary group who had disembarked. After a grueling month of battles and sea monster attacks, fewer than three hundred of the original Bloodsail apprentices remained.
"Well, looks like you country bumpkins have some sense, unlike the idiots from my year," one apprentice sneered, his mocking tone grating.
His words dampened the tentative anticipation among the Bloodsail group, reminding them that the Blackthorn Tower Academy was no haven.
Not all apprentices were hostile, though. A female apprentice stepped forward.
"Listen up, newcomers," she said. "Not everyone here qualifies as a wizard apprentice. You must independently master three spells to earn that title. Until then, you're just initiates or novices."
She paused before continuing. "Your tasks moving forward are twofold: continuously enhance your mental strength and diligently learn new spells."
"Enough, Celia. Stop playing the good Samaritan," barked a burly, bald apprentice with a scar across his forehead.
"Listen well, you rookies!" he growled. "The academy forbids killing outright, but the rules are only as good as the enforcers. If you kill without leaving evidence, the lawkeepers won't bother. So if you want to live longer, keep your heads down! And don't think setting foot on the wizard continent makes you anything special. You lot from your tiny islands are nothing but trash to me!"
The Bloodsail apprentices held their tongues, meeting his insults with cold stares.
In the past, such provocations would've incited outbursts from overconfident newcomers. But after a month of harrowing ordeals, those impulsive types had long since been tossed overboard.
The bald apprentice seemed irked by their lack of reaction, scratching his head in frustration before stomping off with a grumble.
The remaining seven apprentices led the group through a sparsely populated harbor to a towering, sheer mountain. Covered in layers of blackened iron chains, the mountain exuded an oppressive, almost sentient aura.
Night had fallen, leaving only a faint outline of the mountain visible against the darkened sky. Its near-vertical cliffs, jagged rocks, and dense, sinister vegetation seemed insurmountable.
"Could the Blackthorn Tower Academy really be atop this mountain?" the group wondered uneasily.
Above them, owls flitted through the darkness. The bald apprentice turned to issue a stern warning.
"Listen up! Do not interfere with any owls near the academy or surrounding areas. The consequences from the lawkeepers will be… unpleasant."
His uncharacteristic display of concern left the group puzzled.
Finally, the seven apprentices stopped at the mountain's base, where ancient trees—each over forty meters tall—loomed like silent sentinels.
The bald apprentice approached one of the trees and bowed respectfully.
"Master, please open the path."
Before their astonished eyes, the tree's trunk transformed, revealing a lifelike human face. Its slow, deliberate gaze swept across the group before receding back into the bark.
With a rumble, a massive boulder chained to the mountainside lifted, unveiling a hidden passageway.
The group ventured into the dark tunnel, walking for over ten minutes before emerging into a breathtaking sight—a vast, illuminated complex of buildings. Towering above them all, in the far distance, was a monolithic black spire piercing the heavens.
"Is this… the Blackthorn Tower?"
While the others gaped at the spire's grandeur, Grimm's attention was drawn to a nondescript, weathered stone nearby. Its surface was eroded by time, yet the words etched into it remained indelible:
"Grant me infinite knowledge, and I shall move infinite worlds with but a fulcrum of my being."